


A Simple Serendipity

by Little Grey Gargoyle (silasfinch)



Series: The Courtship of Dr. Budd and Ms. Montague [2]
Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-10-23 08:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/pseuds/Little%20Grey%20Gargoyle
Summary: Julia Montague struggles to recover and falls into an accidental relationship with the younger liberal doctor who insists on feeding her2/6: Chapter II





	1. Chapter 1

 

I am reckless and jeopardising a promising political future.

The endless bletting about making the most of public sympathy and the renewed debate about security is tiresome, and the life of a hermit seem more appealing. Chanel and Rob leave daily updates about me polling data and the prestigious media outlets that want an interview as soon as I'm 'recovered'. As if there is a set timeframe for getting over nearly dying in a terrorist plot and losing valued members of staff. I am proud of the Montague reputation for unrelenting determination and powerplays, but it doesn't make the heartless bitch of leafiest nightmares. At least not entirely, If the night terrors and nauseating vulnerability are anything to go by.

I don't entirely loathe the psychiatrist mother insisted I see weaky. He charges obscene amounts by earns every quid by sparring every session and not falling for my decades of training in debate and evasion training. It isn't entirely surprising that Simon Henderson won trophies for debate at Oxford. The man's likability doesn't make labels like PTSD and Social Anxiety easier to stomach or the little white pills to add to my personal pharmacy.

  
The party is still covering for me and my deputy and staff still insisting they are filling in rather than preparing for a by-election. Even Roger is borderline civil when drops off a garish assortment of expensive roses, the paparazzi nipping at his willing heels. This honeymoon phase won't last if I continue to reject social overtures. The problem with devoting a life to personal ambition and politics is that I struggle to maintain to true abiding friendships or relationships, a few friends from university qualify but they are all overseas or tangled in family lives. Simon believes I judge people too harshly and intentionally isolate myself and he isn't wrong just annoyingly cliche.

He would be one of the few people who would thoroughly approve of my regular dinner companion.

 

***

The first dinner is a humiliating disaster.

One of the most challenging things about Dr David Budd is that he has almost perfect recall, from repaying my words in our frequent debates or charming the members of my security detail by name. No scrap of information seems beneath his notice as somebody who relies on briefings and whispered talking points it's impressive and infuriating. David shrugs and claims it's nothing but medical school training and years in the army.

"An unobservant solider doesn't last long, Home Secretary."

He collects information that is useless from how I like my herbal tea (coffee is still a no go) to the maintenance schedule for my apartment. We haven't even defined this strange dynamic between us, and he is already fixing lightbulbs to save me a quid I can easily afford. Which is why he brings takeout from the Thai place I mentioned fondly the first time he visited with wound cream and a tender smile.

"I figured you were just about ready for proper food" is his explanation as he follows obediently into the lounge.

"That smells delicious."

I'm not lying the combination of spices and noodles is comforting and enticing, it is only years of manners training that stop the urge to pick at the cartons as I plate them and fish around for silverware. In a rare moment of unity, Rodger and my mother would be horrified at the combination of great grandmother's china and some close to nightwear, but convention doesn't matter at this moment. David is chatting animated as he flicks through my record collection, showing a far more technical knowledge than I possess.

" I hear record players are back in vogue for you millennials, complete with an appreciation for the classics."

David barks a laugh and follows me to the couch reaching to expertly set the 'table' in front of the sofas; I can't sit comfortably in other chairs yet. As it is my hip won't be forgiving in the morning — a worthy sacrifice for a pleasant evening with somebody who makes no demands of me beyond engaging conversation.

"There is barely a decade between us Julia, hardly an insurmountable divide, musically or otherwise. A positively pedestrian number in comparison to some of your political colleagues" David argues as he expertly portions out Pad Thai.

"Those statistics rarely work in favour of the older woman, Dr Budd. Any glance through history will tell you that"

We eat in silence for the first 10 minutes. The meal is everything I hoped for, and David is an easy and amusing companion. I am just about to reply to his query about plans for the weekend when I am overcome with wave dizziness, and bile rushes to the back of my throat. Sweat breaks out on my brow and neck. Before I can struggle to stand David is in action grabbing a nearby vase as I vomit over the table our dinner splattering onto his shirt.

"Easy love - you are ok just a reaction to the meds."

Most men would run a mile on a first or second date if the woman was in a foetal position and groaning but David just expertly balances me and the container whispering soothingly as I moan about the pain. I'm alternating between crying and cursing my vulnerability. I try to make David leave, but he refuses to guide me to the couch before raiding my cupboards for ice, tissues and blankets. I tune out his calm explanations in favour of sulking and pretending he doesn't exist.

When I wake up at 3 am, he is still there on the couch - pretending to be engrossed in a crossword puzzle...

***

Their second date is an ambush affair.

I will concede to many character flaws, and fierce pride is chief amongst them. David Budd was the definition of a courtly gentleman, complete with cleanups and hair holding but that doesn't change the reality. Rehabilitation is a series of extreme humiliations and indignities without inviting more of a spectacle with a handsome younger man. My ego can't take the fall from a competent person to weak patient, not in his eyes.

Dr David Budd does not get the message.

Julia is biting in her rejections almost insulting in her language choice. Yet this doctor from Glasgow shows more spine than anyone else in parliament or her employee. He doesn't finch no matter how demeaning the text exchanges become if David Budd was inclined he could sell these exchanges for big bucks. Of course, the doctor is far too honourable for such things instead all he cares about is that I am eating right and watching trashy tv when insomnia strikes.

Only he could make such intrusive actions feel charming to a warmongering cynic like me. I still ignore them.

My defences are still down when I find him sitting outside my apartment carry bags at his feet. He isn't isn't a threat to anything but my pride judging from the inaction of my mandatory security detail.

"Yours isn't even that impressive you know" he begins conversationally. "On a scale of increasing vomiting magnitude it barely even registers on a quiet night at Glasgow General."

"You are trying to make me feel better about projectile vomiting over you by pointing out that I wasn't even skilled at emptying my stomach contents over your dress shirt?

"I'm trying to tell you that I don't see you any differently and your Tory Pride doesn't mean you need to shut me out entirely. It was my fault for not considering the meds you are on- please Julia."

I let him mainly to avoid the spectacle of a man in scrubs pacing outside my doorway with elderly residents willing to gossip. David is stubborn enough not to care. He drops a tender kiss on my forehead.

“My mother’s soup perfect for any constitutions”

The arrogant has the nerve to whistle as he heats up the soup and searches for a movie on Netflix.

 

***  
Our third dinner date reminds me why my relationship history is a barren wasteland punctuated by occasional disasters.

The inquisition is unfair and childish but the news from the doctor today isn't good and attacking empty walls isn't remotely satisfying. I'm still not fighting off the infection in the right hip joint, and it's likely a second surgery is unavoidable to maintain the full range of motion. The PM wants to meet me to discuss the future and where I see myself in the power reshuffle. I'm not ready for any meeting much less anything at Number 10

"Do you see me as a patient?"

"Considering that the majority of my patients were either children or war vets I can definitely say you aren't either. Never mind the fact that treating a woman you are interested in dating is highly unethical if not illegal. As a former officer of Her Majesty's courts, I'm sure you are familiar with the relevant statutes."

"Is this some kind of mother complex?"

"Even if that were my thing - Judy Dench or Helen Mirrim would fit the bill."

One thing in Roger's favour is that he is perfectly willing to indulge me in a good fight, heck we fought on our honeymoon and never stopped clawing for dominance. David refuses to give the satisfaction and instead focuses on finishing his second helping.

"You are spoiling for a fight because you'd had a shite day. My ex-wife and my divorce lawyer will tell you I'm slow to learn, but even I can see this conversation is fools' errand."

Later that evening, David kisses away my hurts and uncertainty, making me feel desired and wanted even though I haven't touched makeup in a month and my hair is straggling and wild. He is gentle with my still recovering body but leaves little doubt that he finds me attractive despite my thorns and flaws. The doubts still linger, but the diversion is so tender it makes me cry.

"Aye, there is nothing wrong with a few tears even from the Torres's Lion take it from a broken ex-solider"

“You aren’t broken and I’m more of a stray kitten ” I whisper my voice thick and hoarse

“You’ve definitely got the claws either way” David jokes as he kisses away her tears

I feel utterly exposed lying here confessing my fears but I bury myself closer and breath in his familiar scent.

 

 

***

Our fourth dinner date makes me feel alive.

David insists that we need to leave the confines of her apartment and enter a restaurant complete with other people and nose that isn't in her direct control. He couches it as being sick of take out, but in reality, Dr Budd is trying to help his girlfriend concur her PSTD and social anxiety. The man wouldn't last two weeks in politics not with his honest face and honourable intentions. I don't protest too much as truthfully I am feeling a little stir crazy We walk the three blocks to my favourite French place talking comfortably about the war day and his kids.

We hold hands but neither of us a comment on the development until we get to the more densely populated streets where people are more likely to play the role of an amateur photographer. There is a distinct difference between speculation and having physical evidence of a relationship. Besides I am relatively old news with the Conservatives trying to rebuild against mounting allegations of corruption at the highest levels.

"Order for us?" David requests after a glance at the menu.

I agree readily, but I'm surprised most men like to posture in a place like this, show off as an amateur smellier and food critique. I order for the Chief's Special for us both and my favourite cheese plate. David reads my question gaze and smiles a little sheepishly.

"Aye. I've been to France but only as a kid and on a camping trip with Ella and Charlie. Neither prepared me to order at a place like this - can't tell a soup from a dessert wine."

This night is the first time since the accident that I feel anything close to social, and we chat easily about my time in France and how I chose the law and then politics. I find myself regretting not having funny anecdotes to share or stories that didn't involve the polo pitch or wreaking havoc on our Latin teacher.

David is brave enough to kiss me in the lobby as he arranges my shawl. Almost subconsciously he runs a hand down the fresh scar on my shoulder .

“Take me to bed and have your way with me, Home Secretary.

The title is uncertain at the moment but nothing is uncertain about my overwhelming spike of desire. We barely make it to my hallway before I attack his collerbones.

 

***

Our fifth dinner date is official at least in so much as my mother is present.

The media likes to talk ad nauseam about the political achievements of my Montague forefathers and how I'm continuing the legacy of public service to the defenders and power grabs by the critiques. Nobody talks about the determination of Rosemary Thomas Montique who is the centre of every move for decades. This oversight allows my mother to be influential without the spectacle that public office entitles.

I am one of the most powerful women in Europe (Three Years Running according to The Guardian) yet convincing this diminutive woman to postpone meeting 'the new man in my life' prooves impossible. She won't listen to reason or pleading and badgers me into selecting Saturday of the following weekend, coincidently when Roger is throwing a hideous engagement party for his almost child bride. Mother always mourned the demise of my marriage far more than I do, he wasn't entirely at fault despite the poorly concealed cheating. I pity the future Roger Penhaligon more than anything.

"I am sorry about this, David," I say for the tenth time as we wait for my mother to arrive at precisely 7 pm."

We are meeting in the private room of my mother's favourite restaurant. The owner is a friend of the family and delights in regaling David with stories of my childhood. Benoit is astute enough to know that if I am bringing a date here, the teasing can compensate in earnest. Luckily the man does not believe in cellphones in his establishment, or the photos would be out.

" Julia I am meeting your mother not testifying in a trial the Hague. This meeting was going to happen eventually, love. Your mother strikes me as a formidable, but I have a decent track record with the Montague woman." David teases trying to coax a smile.

"Well you've got more hair and charm than your nearest competition, not that either is difficult" comes a dry voice from the doorway.

"Dr Budd, I presume?"

I watch their interaction with more curiosity than true apprehension. David extends his hand and meets her assessing gaze without flinching. Even on a physical level David Budd goes against my usual type and he does look particularly young in his suit, gorgeous but young. My mother is a former chief curator and archivist for a major art museum there is no way she hasn't done extensive research. David's online profile isn't, but the basics are there, a former soldier, doctor and social activist.

"David is fine Ma'am. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"I owe you a debt of gratitude for convincing my daughter to end her seclusion and reliance of ready meals. Julia is stubborn, so you must be something if she let a Labour voting idealist past the door, much less into her kitchen."

“I can’t take too much of the credit. An encyclopedic knowledge of healthy takeaways options is a nessesity for a workaholic, most places have either my or Julia’s order on speedail”

“It’s still impressive she let you past the door”

“My defences were down – shall we order or are you going to discuss my failings all night?” I suggest archly

The evening is nerve wracking but not a horrible confrontation. Ever the diplomat my mother acts the protect parent without treading on dangerous or controversial topics. For the first time in a decade neither of us mentions the laws on the docket or the success of RIPPA in latest by election.

David has a passion for medical history in Scotland and chats to mother about an exhibit he wants see celebrating the first medical school in Edinburgh. I make a mental note to source tickets to the opening.

“A courtship by a handsome young man suits you Darling, keep him around” is her passing judgement

“Courtship, mother? I dragged the man to a hotel and vomited all over him. Modern in the extreme”

“Inconsequential detail, Julia Elizabeth”

 

 

 

***

"Would you be willing to meet my kids?"

My first instinct is to say no absolutely not.

Roger and I were far too self-obsessed and ambitious to consider becoming parents but suited my natural disposition well. The Montagues are not a prolific bunch, so my experience with children consists mainly of friend's annoying siblings and the obligatory babies on the campaign trail. It's infuriating that it is still taboo to say I am ambivalent about the thought of children and there is not great heartache to find. I've never found ashamed or apprehensive of this position until now.

Our relationship may be new and uncertain, but I care about this man and by extension must agree to meet the children he adores. It would be easy and probably safer to reject this obligation and doom this relationship before it becomes public. I feel sick at the very thought of going back to my lonely existence.

"I don't mean right away of course but one day..." David misinterprets my silence for reluctance.

"Of course I'll meet them David" I hasten to reassure him ", but I am afraid I'll disappoint you and them. My experience with children can fit inside a matchbox with room to spare. Motherless and cold are some of the favourite adjectives in my unofficial bios.”

“I’m not expecting you to recreate The Sound of Music or an NHS ad on family unity. Just meet them and say hello. Vicky and I are long divorced. Meeting a date won’t be an entirely foreign concept to Ella at least”

“Give me a rundown on the newest Budds I need to impress. Surely it can’t be any more difficult than debating NHS policy with you”

I am embrassingly entranced by David when his ordering takeaways or debating a quizz answer. There is a unique beauty in watching a devoted father talk about his children.

It would take more bravery than I currently poseses to say out loud but it would be achingly easy to love this man, liberal ideas children and all.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

"You are going to hate me this week - don't say that could never happen, our ideological differences run too deep to negate the possibility."

"I was going to say that my hatred is usually the domain of genocidal dictators or hospital bureaucracy but ok."

"People argue politicians embody both those characteristics with less feeling."

Julia misses pacing now that she has to converse most of her energy for essential movements. David is calmly completing the weekend crossword over a strong cup of tea. She wants to continue this simple time together, but the news is going to break soon. Tahir and Rob can only do so much in preparation. Rob's inconvenient crush may even motivate selective leaking of information.

" The party is going to need to push for greater fiscal responsibility in several department budgets the forecasts from the economists and statisticians is looking grim not at the crash, but there are warning signs in investments and trade."

"Must keep the war chests full to bursting, Madam Security?"

"Stay within the acceptable debt parameters set by our cross-party forfathers. The discusses on certain topics are going to be decidedly unpleasant ..., and I wanted to warn you."

"Julia, are you trying to tell me that the house of lords will ring with cautionary tales of solo parents buying each of their seven kids PlayStations and turning down perfectly adequate housing because they're ugly?" David interrupts archly setting aside the newspaper.

"Something like that"

"This is nothing new to clinics and war veterans. I'm a kid from the Glasgow housing development who needed and took every government handout that was going. I heard every insult going from officials and people on the streets."

Julia swallows hard against the image he presents and the unwitting part she may have played as a member of the young conservatives. Somehow David's matter of fact tone make the prickles at her conscience even worse.

"Not like this I fear and not by my government in particular"

 

***

Dr David Budd's optimism is wildly misplaced.

He may not take an active interest in politics as a whole, but the rhetoric around the war, troop deployment and the dreaded cost cuttings in the health sector are impossible to avoid. Anne Sampson and the other regional directors are under more pressure than usual to trim the non-existent fat in the budget. David is relatively new to the hospital and still under informal probation, but he is senior enough to attend meetings and panic sessions.

"How do you sleep in her bed at night?"

"I bet this makes for interesting pillow talk."

David barely resists the urge to snap at the people making snide comments in the locker room or at the nurses' station; it wasn't like his relationship with the Honourable Julia Montague is the first to mix political affiliation.

"There is no way your girlfriend could or what access records here, is there? It wouldn't be difficult to make our caseload and drug-induced dosing mistakes to look pretty bad, especially to a former officer of the high court."

The genuine concern in Anne Sampson's question prevents David from storming out angrily. His boss looks like she hasn't slept more than two hours in the last fortnight or left the hospital for that matter. The hospital administrator fears conflicted loyalties or a mole in their ranks.

"She has more honour than that. Julia is one of the most influential figures in the country. I am confident she has access to far greater scandals that our hospital can provide. MI5 and MI6 are on speed dial at a time like this" David offers without a trace of confronting in his voice.

  
***

Strangely Julia feels small shreds of relief in their escalating conflict.

Julia Elizabeth Montague is well past the point of ever dreaming about the perfect boyfriend. Truthfully her childhood and teenage crushes were more a matter of social compatibility than grand romantic fantasies. She married Rodger because it was comfortable and it fit like the next step in a jigsaw puzzle. Despite remaining eminently sensible as she approached fifty, her secret struggles to find flaws with the dashing Dr David Budd aside from his terrible taste in political figureheads and bone-deep idealism.

The David Budd in recent weeks is the furthest thing from a romantic ideal while remaining a kind and thoroughly decent person. The doctor is moody and combative willing to bicker over the smallest details. He takes more double shifts than is strictly, and their regular dinner dates are icily silent. The selection of takeout is almost wasted on them both, pick at the sections as they do, but David insists on a healthy diet.

"I was right, wasn't I? When we first met?"

Julia freezes at the hostile tone just for a second the words bring a flashback of her ex-husband. The same simmering rage and scorn don't look natural on such a young face.

"In what way?" Julia is careful to put down her knife and fork sensing this meal is over for the night.

"Touring round hospitals giving out new equipment and staffing allocation was nothing but a PR exercise. These sweeping measures were always in the works, a pretty Trojan Horse."

"Of course not that are entirely different scenarios and certainly not worthy of that tired and cliche comparison, if we must be classical this is the tale of Odysseus fighting to restore a homeland to return to, playing the long game. It's like comparing the ability to balance a personal budget with balancing the government coffers, which is another insult when the left is in opposition by the way."

David glowers at her struggling to articulate the argument while looking exhausted after a long shift.

"Anne Sampson wanted to know if there is any way you could be spying on us to gather diet on a crumbling system."

"That's absurd."

"Aye, but for a second, I wondered, and that hurts more than most of the stupid retoric."

Julia won many debates and is known for her comebacks in multiple languages and feet of international law. It is in her apartment with the man she loves there isn't a single word in response. David quietly finishes his wine and neatly folds his napkin before slipping out at the door without a backwards glance.

 

 

  
***

"Don't be an idiot."

Julia ideally wonders if she should fire Kim Knowles or somebody else on the protection detail. Her firm instructions of not wanting to be disturbed were negotiable when it comes to specific doctors. Of course, David is something of a fixture in her life and thus the detail's orbit complete with code name. He is the type of person to learn birthdays and children names after the first meeting.

" Your opinion of me is fairly low at the moment you may need to specify the exact nature of my crime or crimes, Dr Budd."

The doctor in question is leaning against her makeshift office at the army barracks still wearing hospital sneakers beneath casual clothes. It takes Julia a moment to realise he is on nights this week and he must be eating into his time with Charlie and Ella.

"Prancing around on an army obstacle cause is going to do your leg and hip no good not to mention your dignity, the ground is too uneven. These photo ops are ridiculous for anybody much less a senior Tory who does yoga for exercise."

"So many digs in one sentence Dr Budd, my age, broken body, party and lack of fitness well done."

"That is not what I am trying to say, and you know it."

"Be that as it may, this isn't the time or the place to rehash our differences. Whatever you think of me, I'm not deciding to extend to the deployment lightly. The least I can do is show up and shake a few hands. Believe it or not, some of your former colleagues think quite highly of me. Useless PR excuses do have their place in the world."

"Julia at least limit yourself to even surfaces. The voting public believe you are heroic enough without amateur theatrics."

 

 

***

"I don't respond to ultimatums there were far many in the army."

Julia wants to reply, but the pain is making her want to pass out and vomit alternatively. Her pride made her pose for a few photo ops at every event and even brush off her old lacrosse and netball skills in the ball cames. Tahir is delighted by the candid photos and the responses in the crowd to her speech; they spend hours crafting to promote the Tories agenda. As David predicts, her still mending leg does not hold up well under strain, nor does her ageing body.

"Oh for heck sake, Julia sit down before I have to revert to remedial first aid, Tahir and the team wouldn't be too happy if you need a stretcher out of here."

Julia sheepishly sinks into the chair in one of the prefab offices that were assigned for the executive teams use for the day. David thrusts a sandwich and drink bottle at her almost angrily. It takes Julia moment to realise that this is a sandwich from her favourite bakery and not army fare.

"Painkillers only work if you take them more or less on schedule."

David holds at the small bottle impatiently refusing to budge until Julia takes the offering.

Julia swallows this pills hard still not use to the metallic after taste that coats her tongue or that she was in a relationship with a man who will drive miles just to a guarantee her schedule is on track.

  
"I am trying to make changes, you...."

Julia expects many changes and challenges when she enters a relationship with a much younger man, but the timing isn't great for her continued dignity. Despite their blazing row, David is still taking her home and trying to ease the spasm and the cramps in her legs and prepare simple stir fry.

"I don't want you to change your policies because you happen to be dating a broken ex-solider with more diagnoses than a patient of Sigmund Fraud."

"Don't take about yourself like that - I hate it, and I am not just making the changes for you. Vester is getting far too dogmatic as he clings to power such measures are only worthwhile in proportion."

"We can talk about it when we get back to your flat and off that leg. Stubbornness and adrenaline have a short lifespan in injury recovery. You are going to pay for this treck in the morning."

"Incidentally, I am proud of any changes to knowing you have fashioned in my belief systems."

 

***

"Couples fight Julia they don't need to be cataclysmic just because of our opposing politic views or age difference."

Julia feels exposed and vulnerable in her old pyjamas and mountain of cushions support her leg, but they need to have this conversation sooner rather than later. Unlike previous relationships, she doesn't feel the need to win or dominate the argument; in fact, she desperately hopes they can reach a compromise.

"We wouldn't be dating if I believed you to be a caricature and mouthpiece of the conservative party. It isn't fair to accuse you of such things because military and medical funding come into play. You are curtailing the more extreme members of your party, even a political novice like me can see what Vester and Mike Travis want to do to our privacy laws."

"I should do a better job of expanding the situation and not excusing you being an idealist. Idealism doesn't make you incapable of deductive reasoning. My tendency towards prickly hostility and defensive is no excuse for minimising interpersonal communication or so my hideously expensive psychiatrist tells me."

David perches on the edge of the coach before gently stoping Julia from plucking nervously at the blanket. He massages tense fingers before continuing softly.

"It can wait for the morning."

"Stay with me?"

"I wouldn't be anywhere else."

 


End file.
